


Communication

by There_lies_my_sanity



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, One Shot, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Yuri Has A Bad Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 06:55:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15189272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/There_lies_my_sanity/pseuds/There_lies_my_sanity
Summary: Yuri has a bad day. Thankfully, Otabek knows how to take care of him.





	Communication

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so the premise for this one is that Victor is Yuri's coach and Otabek is visiting Yuri in Russia for a while, maybe a moth or two? Yeah, that sounds right. Please enjoy my attempt at fluff!

Otabek is staying in Russia with Yuri.

It takes some time for that to set in. Every morning, it seems, he wakes up with that thought on the tip of his tongue--Otabek is staying. In Russia. With Yuri.

It’s not like it’s a permanent thing, not like what Yuuri’s doing with Victor. They aren’t even together, for goodness sake (though Otabek can’t say the thought hasn’t crossed his mind). But it keeps surprising him when he wakes up in the apartment they’re sharing, Yuri having moved temporarily out of Yuuri and Victor’s place so he could live with Otabek and “not be forced to endure their disgusting lovey-dovey-ness”.

It isn’t only his current living arrangements that keep surprising Otabek. There’s also the bit about Yuri being, like, weirdly affectionate. Not that Otabek’s complaining, not at all. And it isn’t even startling, not when they’re lazing around the apartment and Yuri puts his hand on Otabek’s arm, bumps his hip with Otebek’s hip, puts his head on Otabek’s lap. It just seems natural. Normal. 

But Otabek is beginning to realize that the only people Yuri allows to touch him are Otabek, Victor, and Yuuri. Victor because Victor’s coaching style is rather hands-on, and Yuuri because...well, Otabek isn’t really sure. They have some sort of bond that’s best expressed through faked annoyance and hair-braiding, and only the two of them seem to understand. Otabek, though…

Maybe it has something to do with the way he can understand Yuri in a way other people seem unable to. Victor and Yuuri, of course, have their own weird family support system vibe language thing, but even they can’t always read Yuri like Otabek can. It’s odd to think that Yuri’s particular form of communication isn’t as easy to understand to everyone else as it is to Otabek, and Otabek’s not sure why he’s the exception to the mask Yuri puts on for the rest of the world. He just knows that he’s thankful, and honored, and maybe a little bit smug.

Yes, definitely smug when friends and fans alike watch in awe as Yuri lets Otabek play with his hair. Definitely smug when Otabek correctly interprets one of Yuri’s compliments and accepts it with a smile as strangers look on in confusion. _Definitely_ smug when, even in public, Yuri greets him with excited eyes and barely concealed affection and maybe, if Otabek is lucky, a hug.

But sometimes, what he really feels is sad. Otabek is lucky, the luckiest person he knows, because Yuri lets him see things he wouldn’t show to anyone else in a million years. But the rest of the world is missing out. And Yuri’s missing out, too, because as much as he’d like to be, Otabek can’t be there to play translator or teddy bear or whatever Yuri needs him to be twenty-four-seven. 

Again, not that he's complaining. Otabek isn't exactly a jealous person by nature, but he doesn’t like the idea of sharing Yuri’s attention. He’d do so without complaint, though, if it meant easing Yuri’s loneliness.

But there’s not much he can do on that front, so he settles for this.

As soon as Yuri stumbles out of his room, Otabek knows it’s one of _those_ days. So when Yuri disappears into the bathroom, Otabek rushes into the kitchen to gather a wide variety of snacks, to the closet for a mountain of blankets, and back to the living room to find the remote, which takes more time than both of the other activities combined. Eventually, the remote turns up in the cereal cabinet (how did it get there? Otabek doesn't really want to know) and the Kazakh skater returns to his previous position on the couch just in time for Yuri to emerge.

It’s a testament to how out of it Yuri is that he doesn't even notice Otabek’s preparations, just staggers over to the couch and collapses beside his friend. Otabek wastes no time in throwing an arm around Yuri’s shoulder and pulling him closer. Yuri comes willingly, practically melting into Otabek’s chest when he starts running his fingers through Yuri’s hair.

It’s quiet, for a while. Otabek doesn’t count the minutes, doesn’t even glance at the clock, just treasures this peaceful moment. It hurts something deep in Otabek’s chest to see Yuri like this, the usually energetic skater drained and depleted. At the same time, though, he feels all warm inside, pride swelling up at the proof that Yuri considers him a safe space, a refuge. That Yuri trusts him enough to let his guard down and just exist for a little bit.

Yuri’s breath hitches, and Otabek pulls the smaller skater onto his lap. Yuri’s hands clench in Otabek’s shirt. He mutters something into the older’s shoulder, voice tentative but too tired to be embarrassed.

“Hmm?” hums Otabek gently, prompting Yuri to repeat it louder and perhaps closer to Otabek’s ear.

Yuri sighs heavily, as if disappointed in himself for what he’s about to say, and shifts to rest his head on Otabek’s shoulder. “Can I stay?” he asks quietly.

Otabek rubs his back, pressing him closer. “What do you mean, Yura?”

Yuri shifts again, and Otabek reaches to the side to tug a blanket over the two of them, tucking Yuri in as he waits patiently for an explanation. “Can I stay?” he repeats eventually, then clarifies, “here. With you.” He swallows audibly. “Will you stay with me?”

Otabek exhales, long and low. It’s not a sigh of exasperation, but of mild amusement, and Yuri knows it. His shoulders are already relaxing when Otabek says “Of course,” and goes back to petting his hair.

Otabek gradually covers them in blankets, tucking them into a little nest on Yuri’s surprisingly comfortable couch, and Yuri lets out a sigh of his own. Then Otabek turns on the television and opens up a pack of crackers, handing them one by one to Yuri because he knows the younger won't go through the effort himself. He doesn’t mind, not when he gets to have Yuri safe and comfortable and warm on his lap.

It takes a while for Yuri to wake up enough to request a Marvel movie marathon, and by then they’ve gone through two packs of crackers and half a bag of chips. At this point, Otabek’s sure that Yuri’s not going to have a miraculous return of energy, so he shoots Victor a text and a mental thank-you for being so understanding. 

Yuri nuzzles into Otabek’s chest, tucking his fingers into Otabek’s shirt and tugging. Otabek is prepared for this, and pulls one of his old sweatshirts out of the pile of blankets, helping Yuri into it. Yuri hums happily and snuggles down, mashing his face in Otabek’s shoulder and turning just enough to see the television.

Their movement throughout the day is pretty much limited to bathroom breaks and snack refills. Every time Yuri slots himself back into Otabek’s side, Otabek wonders what he does when he’s in this kind of mood and Otabek isn't here. That’s a rather depressing train of thought, though, so the older skater pushes it aside and holds Yuri a little tighter.

There are a lot of things he wishes he could have when comes to Yuri. His attention, his affection, his---dare his think it---love. But at the end of the day? This, right here…

Yuri laughs softly at one of Hawkeye’s witty one-liners, his hand absentmindedly intertwining itself with Otabek’s. He’s warm against Otabek’s side, their legs all tangled together, their faces inches apart, and Otabek’s never seen him this at ease anywhere but here.

This is all he needs.


End file.
